


Sunny Days and Kitten Whiskers

by Kymopoleia



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, M/M, i have so many headcanons in this shit, presmut, stuff leading up to sex, u might as well just go to tumblr's "post more octavian 2k16" tag and treat it as an index
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 13:58:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5293739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kymopoleia/pseuds/Kymopoleia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Will, don't." Nico hisses, grabbing his arm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunny Days and Kitten Whiskers

**Author's Note:**

> wonut=waffle donut. http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/food-recipes/dessert/news/a19886/homemade-wonut-recipe/

"Will, don't." Nico hisses, grabbing his arm. Will's eyes widen in disbelief at what the other is implying. He glances between Octavian and Nico, the purple fabric trapped by the load, the heavy gold being magnetically pulled to it. He has flashbacks to the Titan War and all the people he couldn't save, all the siblings and cousins and friends he remembers dying, and blinks back tears, surging forwards to yank his cousin bodily from the onager. Nico’s hand falls from his arm and the other boy, frail as he looks, struggles like a frightened deer. Blunt nails scrape at Will's back and arms as he holds him, and Octavian screams for someone, anyone to set the onager off. Some soldier with the worst concussion Will's seen on someone who isn't a direct demigod child of the big three runs forward and does, and Nico stares at Will in blank horror and almost... betrayal.

-

Will rips the bandage with his teeth before he finishes wrapping the wound on Octavian's arm. The boy is pouting at him, eyes hardly focused on where Will is but eyebrows furrowed and lips pouted. 

He's cute. Will can't help but smile as Octavian's other hand fumbles with the edge of his borrowed Camp Half Blood shirt. After the battle had ended, Will had rushed him into more conspicuous clothes, but had failed to treat the gash due to higher priority patients. Even now, three days later, the infirmary is filled with occupants and Will hardly allows himself the sliver of moonlight to see Octavian by.

Will finishes wrapping the wound and puts his hands on either side of Octavian’s knees, bracing himself as he leans in close. He sees Octavian take a second to process before his eyes snap down and a breath gets sucked in, and Will finally puts it together. 

"Are you blind?" He whispers.

Octavian tenses, and his lips open. "I- no." He hisses back, obviously just as concerned with the people around them as Will. His aspect kryptonite was healing, not courtesy.

Will hums. "How well can you see? Can you see my eyes? The scar under my left eye? How many beads I have on my necklace?"

"I can see fine. Your eyes are blue, the scar is there, and I don't care about your jewelry."

Will nods. "If you could see fine, you'd know the scar is under my right eye, and that I have five beads on my necklace, and I'm a son of Apollo, anyone could guess I had blue eyes."

Octavian jerks back. "I'm not blind you-"

"Legally blind?" Will interrupts him.

Octavian turns his head. "No. No. No." He whispers. "There's nothing wrong with me."

Will frowns, lifts a hand to turn Octavian's face. "No, nothing's wrong with you. Tell me what happened."

Octavian closes his eyes. "No. Why should I tell you anything?"

"I'm a doctor. I won't tell anyone."

Octavian hesitated. “You cannot judge me, alright?”

Will rubbed Octavian’s cheek with his thumb before pulling his hand back and putting it on the counter again. “I’m a doctor. It’s not my place to judge.”

Octavian huffs out a breathless laugh before he reopens his pale, pale blue eyes. “Fine. I’ll tell you outside, it’s stuffy in here.” He whispers. Will knows he really means that the infirmary smells like blood and ambrosia and lemony cleaning wipes, but Will doesn’t mind the chance to get out for a little bit.

Octavian slides off the counter and follows Will outside, one hand on Will’s shoulder. Will hadn’t noticed the habit before, hadn’t seen it as anything strange. It makes sense now.

They end up walking to the lake, Will leading and Octavian to his left and slightly behind him. Pausing there, on the shore, Will hums. “We’re alone, outside.”

Octavian scoffs. “I can see well enough to tell that.” He pulls his hand away. “Well, you wouldn’t lie about the alone part, right?”

Will shakes his head, then coughs. “No, I wouldn’t. Physician’s honor.”

Octavian rolls his eyes, and Will finds his eyes drawn to the other boy rather than the peaceful scene in front of him. Octavian certainly is the more enchanting of the two, though Will doubted he’d care to hear it.

“It started when I was ten.” Octavian whispers, then coughs. The sound seems louder coming from him, and the crickets seem to pipe down just a bit to make more room for his words. “I knew the current augur was getting old, and I felt that I was the right fit to succeed him.”

Will purses his lips. There’s a pause long enough to fit the whole Atlantic Ocean in.

“I lied. I didn’t think I was right, I wanted to be right. Needed to be right. My family is full of, um, overachievers. My eldest brother, Augustus, was twenty four and married and fast on his way to a rich political career, my sister, Ilythia, was seventeen and was well on her way to a medical degree, and my other brother, Marius, was fourteen and already a centurion. I had a lot to live up to, and I wasn’t even sworn in yet.”

Octavian’s voice sounds raw with emotion, and Will’s heart pangs. He wants to comfort him, but has no clue how.

“So I did something so stupid.”

Another pause, this time much smaller and suspenseful and bitter.

“I made a deal with a god.”

Will’s face softens and he reaches for Octavian. He blinks when the other boy pulls back, and pulls his hands in to his chest.

“No, no. It wasn’t like that, Solace. I made a deal with Lord Apollo.”

There’s a light rumble in the sky, almost like a purr, despite the lack of rainclouds in the area. Will can’t help but shiver, frowning.

“Go on?” He says softly, finally crossing his arms.

Octavian looks over at the lake. “I prayed to him, made an altar and… Well, I sacrificed a teddy bear and had candles and cut my hand and dripped blood over the teddy bear. My closet back in New Rome still has that bloodstain on the floor because I never told anyone about it.”

Octavian blows out some air. “But, you don’t care about that. Um. I heard a cough behind me, and I thought Marius or Augustus found me, but when I turned around, there he was. In all of his glory, Lord Apollo was standing in my messy bedroom.”

Will glances around them uncomfortably. He doesn’t know how far removed from Apollo’s genes Octavian is, but nothing following the story of a god being in a young boy’s bedroom seemed safe. Will loved his father, but Will remembered much too clearly the story of Ganymede and Zeus. He knew his father was his father’s son, but he hoped this story wouldn’t be a repeat affair.

“He asked me why I called him and bandaged my hand, and I admitted everything. It poured out of me. All of thoughts, insecurities, my fears, all of it came out and he was just…” Octavian smiles and looks back at Will. “He was there for me. He gave me an option. He wanted to make me happy.”

“What did he do?”

“He said that, for a price, I could have some access to the sight of the Oracle of Delphi. That I could use it a couple times. That he believed in me. He said that he loved me and my siblings and my father and his brother, and that he’d never stopped loving my grandmother. He assured me that, no matter what path I chose to follow, I would succeed, because I had his light in me and I could anything I wanted to do.”

“So what did you do?” Will blinked. “What was the price?”

“My soul.”

Will gasped, and Octavian breaks out a grin, laughing softly at him. Will pouts at the other blond, putting a hand over his heart. “Not nice to scare someone like that, Tavi.” He huffs.

Octavian shrugs. “Have to make it fun somehow, I was always taught that lakesides were for romantic novels and best friends telling jokes. I know we’re kind of, um, not friends, but it’s better than the alternative.” He flashes a smile and Will shakes his head.

“We’re friends, Octavian. Just, finish telling me your story, okay?”

Octavian nods. “It wasn’t anything as drastic as a soul, which is good, because I’m sure some would argue I don’t have one of those to trade.” Will snorts. “It was a simple, fair trade. For him allowing me access to the Delphic sight, my own eyesight would get slightly worse.”

Will blinks. “Wait, what? No big thing? Just a little bit worse? How bad were your eyes then?”

“They were perfect. The deal was circumstantial.”

There’s a pause. Will remembers the waves lapping at their feet as his shoes get wet. Octavian doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“How many auguries have you done?” Will asks.

“Hundreds.”

Will runs a hand over his face, turns to look out at the water. “Seriously? You don’t do anything in halves, do you?”

Octavian huffs. “What would you have had me do? I had an opportunity to be great, an opportunity to help the military. I don’t matter, so long as Rome flourishes.”

“New Rome. It’s a small town in the middle of like, Los Angeles or something.”

“Rome is an idea and a society and an empire.”

“You’re indoctrinated into believing that just like all of the other soldiers.”

The augur looks appalled. “You sound as if you have a problem with the military.”

Will turns to him. “Wow, wonder where you got that idea. It isn’t as if we’ve fought in two vicious wars in five years, as if I’ve lost siblings and friends, as if you all are not children that I can’t save.” He bites his lip. “I shouldn’t have gone off on you, I just. It was hard.”

Octavian hesitates before putting a hand on Will’s arm. “The war wasn’t easy on us romans, either. We were more prepared, yes, but we still… Many of us had never been in battle, or even quests. We’ve been through the war games, but fighting against your friends and rivals is different than fighting hordes of heathens fighting against the gods.”

“They weren’t heathens, Octavian. They were kids, just like us.” Will pulls back, letting Octavian’s hand rest in the air for a second before watching it fall.

“We tell ourselves what we must to deal with what happens on the battlefield, Solace.” 

-

Knowing now that his cousin (nephew? Brother? He can’t figure out how to call the boy he’s taken under his wing.) is blind, or nearly blind, makes taking care of him and making him help around the infirmary easier. He gives more specific directions, guide Octavian’s hand, describes things. Octavian seems less frustrated, and the other campers don’t even seem to notice it. They trust Will, trust his judgement. They don’t even notice Octavian himself, because in the CHB shirt and next to Will he’s just another camper, just another face among the many.

The days pass and the camp heals. The dead are buried, their shrouds burned, kraters fired, wine and cokes poured. Will doesn’t talk about anything but his patients and light small talk, and Octavian doesn’t seem willing to try to talk about anything else.

After a few weeks of life passing like this, Percy ends up on a bed in front of Will, a cut on his left leg extending from upper-thigh to lower calf. Percy doesn’t seem shaken, and Will doesn’t really expect him to. They’ve been through so much together, and Will has seen so much of Percy.

But, this time the cut is too high, and Percy freezes, staring at Octavian with his pants half down. Octavian is staring blankly in front of him, but Percy isn’t aware of his blindness yet. He stares at Octavian, and Octavian stares back, and Will wants to laugh at how funny the situation is.

“Um. Do you mind?” Percy asks. Octavian blinks and redirects his eyes to where he thought he heard the sound from, confused. “Looking away?”

Will puts a hand on Octavian’s shoulder and gently turns him. He looks over at Percy, who is now the confused one. “He’s blind, Perce.”

Percy looks Octavian over then squints at him. “Seriously? He doesn’t look blind. Don’t blind people usually like, have cloudy eyes or something?”

Will rolls his eyes. One of his least favorite qualities of Percy. “Blindness can occur in a lot of different ways and look different on everyone, Percy.”

“Sure, Doc, but still. When did he come into camp? I’ve never seen him around.”

“Um, it was all kind of a blur. Around the battle of Gaea, you know?”

Percy nods. “Cool. What’s your name?”

Octavian refuses to answer, and there’s a long pause. Will rolls his eyes.

“Tavi. But, if you insist on calling me Doc, you can call him Nurse.” Octavian scoffs and turns towards Will.

Percy grins and finishes kicking off his pants. No matter how painful the cut should be, Will would always be surprised by how resilient Percy was and how good he was with pain. It probably came from having been a former owner of the curse of Achilles and having made his way through Tartarus with nothing but Annabeth, Riptide, and his insufferable need to come out on top.

Will gestures for Percy to sit down, and grabs some supplies to start cleaning the wound. Percy winces once or twice, but other than that he’s the perfect patient.

Will never did hate treating him, only the drama surrounding him.

Just before Percy leaves, he pauses in front of Octavian, eyes narrowed as he stares at the kid, searching for something. Will’s just lucky he didn’t find whatever it was, because Percy sighs and leaves, forgetting to say goodbye to Will.

-

Will misses talking to Octavian.

It wasn’t like they ever actually got close. It just hurts that the boy is basically ignoring him, considering how he sleeps in the bed next to Will’s, follows Will around all day like a pathetic golden retriever, and even had to eat off of Will’s plate sometimes. Other people did occasionally give him strange looks as he guided his cousin- and it was really easier to say cousin- around and cut his food up for him, but Will didn’t exactly care.

It takes a month or so after the Percy incident before Will gets tired of it. Octavian had been silently following his instructions around the infirmary, which had become almost as safe and easy to navigate as washing his own body, when Will’s annoyance comes to a point.

He sets the industrial-sized box of band-aids down heavily, wincing when Octavian flinches. That makes him feel kinda bad, but he needs to get this out there now before he loses his nerve.

“Octavian?” He says, watching as Octavian’s shoulders knit up in… He’s not sure. He can’t see his face from here. “We need to talk.”

Octavian turns slightly, but he looks sorta confused, which Will recognizes, of course, as super fucking confused.

“More to the left and five big steps forwards.” He offers, and Octavian sighs in relief as he does, ending up in front of Will but slightly at the wrong angle. Will reaches out and adjusts Octavian, noting how the boy doesn’t feel as bony anymore. He must have been filling out, which means that the donut and pastry positive diet was working. Plus, it was an excuse for Will to have donuts too, which was awesome. Octavian’s favorite seemed to be wonuts, which Will would never say no to.

Will shakes his head quickly, trying to refocus on the roman. “Why aren’t you talking to me?” He asks, voice coming out just this side of a whine, betraying him. He doesn’t think he cares, but if he never develops a stony voice he’ll never get anyone to stay on their Doctor’s orders, and that thought makes him sad.

Octavian closed his eyes slowly, turning his head away. “I thought you knew that reason already.”

Will frowns. “What?”

“I’m not talking to you because you don’t like me and I don’t want you to hate me more and leave me to my own devices.”

Will notices the way Octavian’s hair is unkempt, a tangled mess barely brushed out of his face and only kept there by an errant band-aid. Will notices how Octavian’s shirt is on backwards. Will sees the bruises through the mass of dirty blonde hair on Octavian’s forehead from where he’d bumped into various cabinet doors or rods or- oh, yep, that’s when he realizes that the band-aid tangled in Octavian’s hair is most likely from some attempt to help himself that went adorably awry. Will notices the way Octavian keeps rubbing his fingers together as if they bother him, and he notices the callouses and nicks on them from misplaced scalpels and… well, generally, any sharp object. Octavian couldn’t exactly see well enough to avoid them.

Will sighs and reaches out, pulling Octavian to his chest for a hug.

“Kid, I can’t hate you.” He mumbles into the boy’s hair, working the band-aid out while Octavian is distracted with winding his arms around Will in return. “You’re… you’re my nurse now, and you’re my cousin, and you’re not awful company. I’m obligated not to hate you for atleast two of those reasons, but the third is why I like you.”

Octavian jumps, leaning back, his eyebrows furrowed. “You… What now?”

“I like you. You’re a sweet kid, and you’re not too bad at helping me, and I miss when you talked to me because I’m lonely and your voice is nice to listen to while I’m dealing with all of the idiotic mistakes of everyone else in this stupid camp.” Will pouts.

Octavian laughs, leaning into him. “Keep complimenting me, you sound best when you’re lying.”

-

It’s lunchtime a day or two later when Will notices a familiarly sallow face at the Zeus table, elbows brushing Jason’s and face not as grave as it usually was around Will. Well, it wasn’t as if Will had ever seen much of the son of Hades, and especially not since he’d prevented what the boy had considered a justified death. But, after the success he’d had of talking feelings to Octavian and the new lesson he’d learned in satyr bone structure the night before, he feels confident enough to take the conversation on.

“Tavi, I’ll be right back. Three donuts on your plate.” Will whispers into the roman’s ear as he gets up to go settle down at the Zeus table for a moment, across from Nico Di Angelo and Jason Grace, two of the downright scariest people Will’d ever met, right behind Percy, Thalia, Luke, Clarisse when she was scared, and Bianca Di Angelo when she was crying- which was, of course, a story best left for times that weren’t this one.

Jason slowly chews his crackers which, admittedly, just makes them even louder and more awkward. Will stares at him, and Nico stares at him, until he swallows sheepishly and sips whatever he had in his cup. “Sorry,” Jason says.

Will looks back at Nico, taking in the messy hair and parted lips. Up close, the boy doesn’t look as unhealthy as Will had originally thought, which makes him feel much less guilty about having basically ruined his possible friendship with him. 

Nico coughs, and Will looks back up at his eyes. Nico gives a fake smile and gestures at Will. “Any reason you’re sitting here, Solace?” He asks, voice husky with sleep despite it being well after noon.

Will nods. “Yep, came to talk to your pretty face.” He flashes a smile and prays to his father it doesn’t look sarcastic.

Nico scowls.

Father has failed him.

Will sighs. “That came out wrong. Sorry.”

Jason sips whatever gods-forsaken liquid is in his cup loudly, reminding his table-mates of his presence.

“Yep. It kinda did.” Nico huffs. “Give me a good reason not to crack the earth beneath you and send you back to whichever hel you spawned out of.”

“Don’cha mean Hades?” Jason nudges him.

“No, I do not!” Nico snaps, effectively getting the attention of some of the nearby tables. “I mean hel, because I don’t want that idiot connected to me at all!”

Jason holds up his hands and prepares to diffuse the situation, but Will doesn’t give him a chance.

“Saving people doesn’t make me a bad person.” Will taps the table with one finger. “And no one can justify assisted suicide.”

“It wasn’t assisted suicide, it was letting the trash take itself out.” Nico hisses.

Jason holds his hands up in surrender. “This is me officially staying out of it. Nope, I’m good. Thank you very much.”

“Trash? Nico, he’s a person too. You can’t just write someone off and decide they deserve to die! It’s not up to you!”

“Not up to me?” Nico laughs darkly at him. “You obviously don’t understand who I am.” Nico pushes himself up, both hands on the table as the ground beneath the pavilion rumbles. “I’m the Ghost King, and if I know someone needs to die, then you’d better not be the one between me and them when their time comes.”

Will rolls his eyes, not even surprised by the act, let alone scared. “I’ve fought in two wars that had practically nothing to do with me and I’ve been in this camp much longer than you’ve been in the proper time. Sit down, Di Angelo, you don’t scare me.”

“I should.” Nico retorts. “I scare everyone else here.” To prove his point, the ground shakes again.

“Yeah, because you’re standing up and causing a fuss.” Will motions at Nico’s plate. “Sit down and all shall be right with the world.”

Nico looks offended. “You need to-“

“Aww, I need to what?” Will smiles, leaning forwards and tucking a hand under his chin. “Need to show more respect? I’ll save that for the gods, if they deserve it.”

“Sheesh, starting to sound like Percy.” Jason mumbles.

Nico slowly lowers himself into the seat, neck and ears red. “You have five minutes to convince me that he’s not an awful human being who deserves to be in the fields of punishment.” He whispers, Will having to lean in to catch the words.

And Will nods because there’s nothing better to do, and does a waving gesture that gets attention off of them. People in camp trust his decisions.

“So, first of all, that attitude,” Will begins. Nico growls, and he stops to offer a smile. “Fine. It’s really not your decision who lives and dies. If you did have that decision, Percy would have a hell of a time in that limbo between you wanting him dead and praying he’s still alive.”

Nico purses his lips, but his cheeks begin to heat up anyways.

“He was some kind of… Political figure or whatever, in New Rome, so it’s not like everyone hated the guy.”

Jason perks up. “Wait, are you talking about Octavian?”

Will glances at him. “Yeah. Kinda. Why?” He’s not sure what Jason’s opinions of his cousin are, and that’s what worries him.

“Oh, I miss him so much.” Jason grins. “He’s a bit like a brother to me, you know? Can be kinda annoying sometimes, but so worth it. At my first Lupercalia, I got too tired to run around anymore and he gave me a piggyback ride and let me slap people from up there, even though he was just a goat.”

Will stares at him, trying to decipher what language the last sentence had been in. Jason, after seeing that neither of his tablemates plan to contribute to the conversation, goes on.

“That was how we first met, actually. At Lupercalia when I was five. We ended up hanging out more, even though his brothers and sister were all in the first cohort and he was practically guaranteed to go there. He was eight when we met, and we’d been friends since.” He pauses again, reaching down to mess with the food on his plate. “He started training to be augur when he was ten, and something changed, but we were still close.”

Nico stares at Jason. Will stares at Jason. Nico speaks first.

“You were friends with Octavian?” Nico asks disbelievingly.

Jason nods. “Yeah. I thought you were too, he was always talking about you.”

Nico looks surprised, Will raises an eyebrow.

“Always talking about him?” He asks. “What’d he say about Nico?”

“Mostly about how interesting it was that he was working so intimately with a god, and how he felt that Nico and Hazel could do great things in camp if they put their hearts into it.”

Will gives Nico a pointed look. “See, how can someone who says that about you be as worthy of your hatred as you seem to think he was?”

“He blackmailed Hazel.” Nico snapped.

“He told me he thought he’d read something about her that made it sound like she’d betray Rome and was concerned.” Jason interrupted. “Back before Juno kidnapped me.”

“Hera.” Both greeks correct, Jason holding up his hands in return.

“Sheesh. Whatever. Names don’t matter. My father’s wife kidnapped me not long after. But he wouldn’t tell me what it was, just that he was worried and was considering doing something to ensure her loyalty to the camp.”

“Yes, because that makes it so much better.” Nico rolls his eyes.

“Well, yeah, it kinda does.” Jason replies. “Rome was his everything. His family had been there forever, and his grandmother’s romance with Apollo was well known about by the social circles his family were part of. He had three siblings who were in the first cohort and all of them had managed to become praetors before they retired. Augustus, his oldest brother, is a politician back in Cali, his sister Ilythia is in her last couple of years at med school, his brother Marius is working through college to get a quick degree in economics before he joins the American military. He was his parent’s last kid and he only had three years before his time ran out. Being an augur was his special thing, and he was giving all of himself to Rome to do it.”

Will realized how bitter the last sentence was at the same time Nico did, and shared a look with the boy. “What do you mean?” Will asks.

“He made this… I really should not be talking about this, but he made a deal with Apollo back when he was ten. Trading off auguries for his eyesight. I tried to get him to stop, or slow down, but he wouldn’t. He was getting all this praise from his parents, all this excited babbling about his ‘gifts’ from his grandfather, and even the praetors and former augur had never seen anything like it. He was so special, he couldn’t get enough of it.”

Nico sighs. “And this is supposed to make me feel bad for him?”

Jason looks over at him. “Just because you don’t care doesn’t mean he wasn’t my friend and he now he’s dead. You could, I don’t know, not be a mentula about it?”

The latin word is unfamiliar to Will, but Nico seems offended.

“Jason, what do you expect? He blackmailed Hazel, he disobeyed Reyna, he led the attack on the greek camp, and he tried to kill you and Piper!”

Jason blinks at Nico in confusion, and Will’s eyes widen as he realizes Nico must never have told Jason about what happened at the battle. Plus, the dead comment throws him off, and he pulls his hands up. 

“Nico, hey, talk to me later. I shouldn’t have come over when Jason was here.” He says softly, tone not offering room for argument.

Nico’s eyes snap over to him, full of annoyance. “No, you shouldn’t have.”

Will feels bad, but there’s nothing he can do to fix it beyond leaving.

-

Octavian had been fumbling with Victoria’s teddy bear for going on twenty minutes before Will sighs and sits next to him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, wrapping an arm around Octavian’s shoulders.

Octavian leans into him slowly, fingers wrapped around the bear’s paws. “It’s nothing.”

Will sighs loudly. “Bullshit. You wouldn’t be moping this hard over nothing, I believe in you.”

Octavian tries to pull away, but Will holds him until he gives up.

“You weren’t quiet at lunch today.” Octavian whispers.

Will suddenly understands.

“Shit, I’m so sorry Octavian, I didn’t mean to talk so loud-“

“It’s fine. You… I shouldn’t be here. I should be dead. That’s what would have happened if you hadn’t grabbed me, right? I would be dead.”

“No, you wouldn’t be dead, because I’d always have grabbed you, kid.”

Octavian shoved at his side. “No, you wouldn’t have. That son of Pluto would have killed me and you’d… you’d have let him! I know, because you have no reason to save me, no reason to keep me, why won’t you just… Why won’t you just let me go? Why won’t you stop caring? Why won’t you leave me alone?”

“Because I care about you, idiot.” Will replies softly, sadly, turning so he can pull Octavian close to him. “I care about you and I want you safe and I want you happy.”

“What if I’d be happier on my own?”

“You wouldn’t be.” Will buries his nose in Octavian’s hair.

Octavian gives in and settles into Will’s lap, tears threatening to fall as he presses his face into Will’s neck. He wraps his arms around Will’s torso, and Will presses even closer to him.

“How do you know?” Octavian breathes out. “How do you know?”

“Because I do. I’m a doctor, I know everything.” Will insists.

Octavian hits him again. “Stop that… Just. Stop.”

Will shakes his head. "No. I won't stop, because if I stop then I won’t be able to take care of you.”

“Why do you even want to do that?” Octavian shakes his head. “It won’t get you anything. You’re lucky no one’s recognized me.”

“No, you’re lucky no one’s recognized you, because you don’t want to be recognized. You want people to look anywhere but you, because you’re scared and tired.”

“I don’t want to be here anymore.” Octavian whispers.

“I know, kid, I know.” Will kisses his hair. “I understand.”

Octavian pulls back a little bit, expression unreadable. His hands tighten in Will’s shirt, Victoria’s teddy bear long forgotten on the bed next to them.

Will stares at Octavian in the soft midafternoon light, watching the way the light breeze from the open window catches Octavian’s short blond hair. It dawns on him that the boy’s roots are starting to turn darker as his hair grows out, and he realizes that the dirty blond color must be the product of dye. It’s endearing, somehow, to think that he tried to get closer to his heritage by dying his hair.

Will can see the process in Octavian’s eyes, see his thoughts working closer and closer towards something. 

Will leans in slowly, starting to hum. He’s unsure if his father would allow him to heal the other boy’s eyesight even a little, but he’s willing to try. It’s better than nothing, atleast.

Just as Will builds up to whisper-singing, Octavian hesitating in front of him, there’s a loud cough behind him.

Will turns, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Yes, eleven other people lived in the cabin, but that didn’t mean he expected any of them to be inside of it an hour after lunch. 

It’s a tall man with blond hair and blue eyes behind shades, wearing a gray and royal blue college sweatshirt reading ‘Olympus Uni” with a graphic of lightning hitting a mountain and a small sticker of a skateboarder doing a trick with the word “Rad” scrawled over the skateboarder’s hat stuck into the blank space under the yellow ‘P’. The man has his hands on his surprisingly shapely hips and an attempt at a scowl on his lips. 

Will’s eyes widen in disbelief and he quickly detaches himself from Octavian to stand. “Dad?”

Apollo laughs as he shoves up his shades, revealing the smattering of freckles on his tanned cheeks and his sunny cheeks. “Good afternoon, Will.” He replies, opening his arms for a hug.

Will, of course, hardly needs the invitation. He surges forwards like a sunrise, wrapping his arms around Apollo and burying his face in his father’s shoulder.

Will’s an inch or so taller, and he wants to laugh about that so badly. It’s been too long since he last got to do this, since Apollo last appeared inside the cabin for just a few minutes in the dead of night to read them bedtime stories or to comfort them after a nightmare. Apollo loved him and his siblings, loved being there for them, even if it was only those sweet moments in times without light. Will loved his father, loved the sun, loved how it felt on his skin and how it felt to know that his father was in his golden chariot, racing across the sky and laughing to himself as he went.

Will pulls back to smile up at his father, unable to hide his excitement at seeing the man, despite the mood prior to Apollo’s cough. “You came, aren’t you still driving the chariot?” He asks, eyes searching Apollo’s, the colors not quite matching but coming damn close.

“I can leave it for just a moment, the skies are cloudy enough to hide the late golden rays.” Apollo replies, tone light and musical but… lacking. He doesn’t seem as happy to see Will as he normally would be.

“Something wrong, Dad?” Will asks.

“Yes and no. Now, I know your heart is full of love, and that you’d do anything to take care of someone, but we need to have a little chat about limits.”

Will furrowed his eyebrows. “Is this about the hymn? Did you just personally come to tell me not to do it?”

“Octavian is a special case, Will. He’s made his bed, now he’s got to lie in it.”

“But that’s not fair. He made the deal when he was ten, plus he was-” Will pauses and turns, pulling away from the hug. “Octavian, would you like to meet your grandfather again?”

Octavian had found Victoria’s teddy bear and reoriented himself while Will’s attention had been on his father, face turned towards the warmth radiating from Apollo and fingers fumbling in the soft fake brown fur. He blinks in confusion.

“A god, here?” He asks. “In… In your cabin?”

“That’s correct.” Apollo replies. “But I’m only here for a moment.”

Octavian gasped softly and stood, smoothing his clothing as best as he could and flinging Victoria’s teddy bear behind him. Will rolled his eyes and put a hand on Octavian’s shoulder, rubbing it to relax him. 

“You don’t need to be so stiff with me, Octavian.” Apollo sighs. “I know I did not appear often, but you should not be this… You should not act as if I am Zeu- Jupiter, or Juno. I’m your grandfather.”

Octavian’s shoulders slowly slump down, his body losing the tension. “I understand that, sir.”

Will squeezes his shoulder.

“I’m not a sir, just. Will, let me finish my point, alright?”

Will blinked. “Oh, back to you telling me that I couldn’t use your gifts to heal his eyes.”

Octavian blinks at Will, and Apollo blows out a breath.

“It’s not that simple, Will, I thought you’d understand.” 

“If I can do something to help someone, I will. Besides, he made the deal when he was ten. You should have known not to offer something like that to a kid.”

“It was a temporary offer to make him feel better! He wasn’t supposed to keep doing it!” Apollo replies, his voice coming out frustrated and nearing a shout.

Octavian flinches and leans into Will, Will squeezing his shoulder again.

“It’s not his fault he used what you gave him. If you didn’t want him to use it, you shouldn’t have given it to him.”

Apollo narrows his eyes. "Are you trying to tell me you know what to do with my powers better than I do?”

Will shrugs. “If the shoe fits.”

Apollo drops his sunglasses in shock. “Need I remind you who the god is, son?” He replies, voice cracking and making him sound almost desperate. 

Will smiles at him. “Not really. But, while I love you, don’t you think you have a chariot to be driving across the sky? I think your break’s about over.”

Apollo looks like he either wants to yell or cry, but a timer goes off in his pocket. He pulls it out to tap a button to turn it off, and rubs the bridge of his nose.

“Just, just promise me you won’t do it, okay? Will, there are things that you can do, things you should do, and things you have to do, and this is not one of those things.”

Will nods, and shields his and Octavian’s eyes as his father leaves.

Octavian turned to Will when the hand over his face disappears. “Do you get to see him often?” He asks softly.

Will smiles at him and swings an arm over Octavian’s shoulders. “Course. He’s my dad, he cares about us. Cares about you too, you know?”

“I… never thought I’d envy the greeks.” Octavian says softly, Will laughing and leaning his head against Octavian’s.

“Don’t get used to it, kid, you’re practically one of us now.”

Octavian wrinkles his nose at Will. “No, I’m not.” He pouts. “I’m still Roman, I’m just…”

“In the Greek camp shirt, in a Greek cabin, in the Greek camp, talking to and sleeping with and helping heal Greeks, eating with Greeks, following a Greek around like a puppy, must I go on…?”

The roman scoffs. “Sleeping with? You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

Will grins. “Not unless you want to be.”

“Why would I want to have sex with a Greek?” Octavian pulls away from him.

“I don’t know. Do you like anyone? I know you know Percy.”

“Yes, like he’s such a model Greek.”

“He really is.” Will sits down on his bed heavily, the metal holding the cloud-like billowing mattress creaking. While they’d been blessed (literally) with heavenly bedding, the mortal bedframe was lacking. Or maybe Will just weighed more than expected compared to the usual twelve year olds occupying the beds. “He’s our modern day Hercules, trail of scorned women and all, probably.”

“Don’t you mean Heracles?” Octavian sits down across from him on the other bed, the bedframe making no protests. “Hercules is his Roman name.”

“A bird told me he prefers the Roman name because it doesn’t basically mean ‘Hera’s’.”

Octavian hums as he thinks. Will keeps talking.

“Besides, it really doesn’t matter what he likes to be called. He’s still, you know, gonna be called the roman name because of that Disney movie. Hey, wonder if Perce is gonna get a Disney movie. They could call it, I dunno, Percy Jackson and the… Heroes of… No. Maybe they’ll go with a truthful title, ‘Stupid Middle Schooler Tries Not To Die’.”

“Junacles?” Octavian interrupts. “Junas? Janu- oh.” He laughs. “That’s already taken.”

Will pouts at Octavian not laughing at his joke and lifts his leg to toe at Octavian’s ankle. The roman pulls his leg in closer, frowning at the offending floor beneath his feet.

Will stares at Octavian, studying the way the boy sits, one hand propped up on the bed and the other curled innocently over his stomach, his pale skin contrasting with the bright orange of the Camp Half-blood shirt and blue of his jeans. They used to be Michael Yew’s, back when he was short and alive. It would probably sound weird to members of other cabins, but at the Apollo cabin, they always kept their dead sibling’s belongings. It had been happening for years, and Will could recall many times in his years here that he’d reached into the drawers lining the wall behind his bed and found clothing he didn’t even recognize the style of, but put on anyways due to sleepiness after long nights in the infirmary.

It was just how things were. And now, with the romans, Will hoped it wouldn’t change.

Octavian’s smile slowly drops to a tiny thoughtful frown, his leg starting to bounce with whatever rhythm he had in his mind. Will isn’t entirely sure what’d happened, why the boy had gone from struggling like a feral animal to a docile house pet. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

But as he watches, observing the boy’s hair bouncing and swaying slightly from his movements and the light breeze, following the flutter of his eyelashes and the curve of his lips and the color of his cheeks, Will does know one thing. He knows that moments like these, peacefully sitting across from someone who he hopes is a friend, he doesn’t want to let those go.

“Will?”

He blinks, turning his gaze from the various parts of Octavian to his eyes. “Yes?”

“When you asked if I liked someone, what would the right answer to that be?”

Will raises an eyebrow. “Well, obviously there’s no right answer. It’s about how you feel.”

“And if I cannot trust how I feel?”

The room is silent for a few seconds, the breeze and rustling of trees outside filling the cabin with background noise to cover the light breathing and heavy thinking.

“Then you just have to do it, you know?”

“But what if they don’t like me back? What if they don’t want me to just… do it?”

“Then that’s a risk you’ll have to take.” Will’s eyes stray from Octavian’s eyes again, following the lines of his body and how he was sitting, now much tenser. “If it’s not meant to be, then so be it.”

“So be it? Taking risks” Octavian repeats back at him. “That’s all… That’s the only advice you have? I thought you were a doctor, and a better advice giver than that?”

“I can’t give perfect advice all the time. I’m a doctor, I’m not perfect.” Will stands. “Besides, it’s not like I know who you like. I can’t help you, I can’t help anyone unless I understand the whole problem. You can’t stitch a wound without thread, you can’t bandage a wound without… You get it, right?”

Octavian stands too, eyes on Will’s lips. “If I never tell them, if they never know, I won’t need help.”

“That’s not how that works. You’ll still be sad when they move on, when they find someone else, when they die,”

Octavian reaches up, hands landing on Will’s shoulders. “Stop. I understand death, I understand the risks surrounding liking someone who won’t like me back, of watching them grow old with someone- anyone else.”

“Do you? Did they go over that in New Rome, in the military?” Will closes his eyes. “Did you learn that as young as I did?”

Octavian slides his hands up Will’s shoulders, those pale, slender hands he’d been admiring earlier curling around his neck comfortingly. The roman’s hands aren’t warm, but to the stuffy, hot flush Will had been getting due to the prickling tears in his eyes, they felt good.

Will leans down, wrapping his arms around Octavian’s waist and pressing his face into his hair. He lets out a small sob, sitting back down heavily.

Octavian gets pulled down with him, ending up on his knees in front of Will with his face buried in his chest. He keeps his hands on Will’s neck, fingers curling slightly.

“I miss them,” Will mumbles softly. “It should have been me. They shouldn’t be gone.” The tears begin flowing.

“Don’t say that.” Octavian whispers. “Don’t start thinking about that.”

“How can I? They’re dead, they’re gone, and I’m… I’m here. I’m just a doctor, I can’t save them all.”

“You don’t have to, they don’t expect you to. You’re doing your best, you’re just a soldier-“

They both freeze.

“I don’t mean-“

“It’s alright, I understand.” Will whispers, pulling back a bit. He brushes Octavian’s hair out of his face, fixing what he’d messed up with the tears still falling from his eyes. “You’re not one of us. Did that help keep you from crying when your friends died? Because you’re eighteen, you’re Percy’s age, aren’t you? It all started back when you were, what, twelve? Just like everyone else who dies. But you’re here.”

Octavian hushes him. “I didn’t lose many friends.”

“Did you make friends?”

“Some. If I needed friends, I would get them.”

"That's not how it works. You don't get friends, you have them whether you want them or not.”

“Well, I had Mike. I had Rey- I had Jason.” Octavian corrects himself, pressing in closer. “I had my gifts.”

“Your gifts aren’t friends.”

“They earned me plenty of them.”

“Friends aren’t friends because you have something they want to associate with.” Will shakes his head. “You just. You need more friends.”

“I have you.”

Will moves Octavian away from him, pushing him gently to stare into his eyes. “You think that’s enough?”

“I have to believe that.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the only one who’ll still take me.”

Will frowns. “Why do you think that? Why do you think no one likes you, that they don’t care? You have family in New Rome, in California, you have people who miss you. You still have Jason, if you’d just talk to him and get him to realize that you’re not dead.”

Octavian purses his lips, and Will can’t help but watch the movement. Octavian had relaxed so much since Will had first snatched him away from the onager load, tearing his rich purple robes and gold jewelry that it’s hard to think of him as the same person.

“They wouldn’t accept me. They’d have wanted me to die an honorable death.”

“They’d rather you-“ Will raises his hands to make quotation marks as his tone takes a turn for disgust. “Die ‘honorably’ than be alive and home?”

“They want us to be our best. By dying for the cause, I did my best.”

Will feels a chill go up his spine at this. “Just like how, by giving up your eyesight, you were giving yourself to Rome?”

“Exactly!” Octavian sounds too excited for the conversation, and Will wants to feel sick. “Thank you for understanding.”

“I don’t. I really, really don’t. Those things you were taught, what they expected of you, it’s disgusting.”

Octavian’s ecstatic face falls. “What?”

“You sound like you’re already dead and in Elysium.”

“I should be.”

Will groans. “Not this again.”

“It will always come back to this, Will.” Octavian pulls his cold, cold hands away from Will’s neck, wringing them. “Because I still should be dead, and you should just give up on me.”

“What if I did? What would you do then?” Will’s tone comes out clipped. “What would you do without me?”

Octavian blinks. “Excuse me?”

“If I got up right now, left the room, left your life, what would you do?”

“Well… Maybe I’d. Go outside, and ask someone for directions to the rock wall-“

“They know you’re blind.”

“Then I’d ask someone to take me to the lake. Surely there’s some spirit I can ask to drown me.”

“And you’re willing to let her get in trouble for killing you? That’s selfish.”

“I could just keep wandering.”

“And you don’t think anyone would stop you before you got out of camp?”

“I’d figure something out!” Octavian yells.

Will catches his hands. “No, you wouldn’t. Okay? You wouldn’t. You can’t. You don’t have any ideas for how to make this happen because it’s not something that’s going to happen.”

The roman looks at his hands, starting to cry. “Why can’t you just let me go? Just get rid of me. It’d be easier for you.”

“No, it really wouldn’t.” Will leans down and kisses Octavian’s cheek where the teardrops are. It was a light kiss, just the slightest brush of his lips, really, but it was still there.

Octavian looks up at him in what may be shock. “What was that?”

Will squeezes his hands and kisses the tears off of the other side of Octavian’s face.

Octavian pulls back slightly, face scrunching up. “That tickles.”

Will grins and presses another kiss to Octavian’s cheek, relishing in how it made the tears stop.

Octavian squeezes his hands. “Stop it.”

Will dives in to pepper Octavian’s cheeks with butterfly kisses, Octavian trying to push him away as the giggles start up.

Will scoots back on the bed and tugs Octavian up, the roman’s eyes closed as the laughter keeps bubbling up and out of his lips. Octavian ends up sprawled over Will as Will lays down, moving Octavian so that he can keep up the assault on his cheeks, nose, eyebrows, temples- basically, any inch of skin he can reach.

But, when his lips touch the corner of Octavian’s, the laughter ceases and he slowly, carefully, pecks a trail over the other boy’s mouth.

Octavian inches closer, and Will presses another kiss down, this time testing to see if Octavian will push him away or not. This time, if Octavian tells him not to, he’ll stop, but he’s just… Nervous. Keyed up. Excited.

Octavian slowly opens his lips, tugging Will’s bottom lip into his mouth to nip at it. Will takes that as a green light and starts moving his lips against the roman’s. Octavian’s hands squeeze his once before they slowly slide up his arms to curl, again, around his neck. Will jumps at the chilly fingers but uses the manual freedom to put his hands on Octavian’s hips.

The kiss keeps going, slipping slowly from tender and awkward to almost hungry. It’s not long before they’re sucking and biting and taking rough gasps between devouring battles. Will’s having trouble keeping air in his lungs with how harsh and full the kiss is.

When Octavian whimpers into his lips, though, is when Will pauses, pulling back to give them both a chance to breathe and think.

Octavian tries to restart the kiss, pressing his lips down messily along Will’s mouth and chin. But Will breathes through his nose and squeezes Octavian’s hips, trying to get him to calm down.

Octavian finally gives up and presses his face into the crook of Will’s neck, his labored breathing tickling the hairs there and making Will let out a breathy laugh.

“Laughing- ah- at me?” Octavian breathes out, the words ghosting over Will’s ear and making him shiver again.

“No.” Will slips his hands under Octavian’s shirt, and he’s surprised to find that the boy’s skin is warmer than his hands. The borrowed shirt slides down his frame, showing off more skin than should be allowed. Will can’t help but find his eyes latching onto the curve of Octavian’s back and the way the fabric bunches up near the bottom of his ribcage. Will’s fingers take to wandering, dragging lightly up his sides and tracing little patterns into them.

“Stooop.” The word drags on as Octavian groans, pressing his obviously burning face into Will’s neck.

Will smiles as he continues tracing, ending up tracing a bow over Octavian’s left hip. The boy pulls back on shaking arms, and Will sees thick black lines on the same hip he’d been touching. He sits up all at once, one hand going to the small of Octavian’s back and the other to his left thigh, steadying him.

Octavian squeaks- honestly squeaks- before giving in and wrapping an arm around Will’s shoulders and using the other to hold up his shirt.

Will notices part of the tattoo dipping below Octavian’s jeans and pushes it down with his thumb, his eyebrows rising.

The boy’s hip is covered in freckles, but between some of them are lines, looking strangely like a constellation. It looks like Apollo drawing his bow, but Will isn’t sure if it’s him or not.

He brushes a thumb over tattoo-Apollo’s arms, raising his eyebrows. “How long have you had this one?”

“Three years. Was drunk.” Octavian mumbles.

“You had good taste for a drunk teenager.” Will tries not to think about how, three years ago, he was only barely still a teenager.

“Jase picked it out.”

“Jase?”

Octavian pulls back. “Jason grace.”

Will smiles. “You two really were friends.”

Octavian looks away. “Were.”

“Why won’t you talk to him?” Will starts tracing on Octavian’s skin again, brushing his fingertips and knuckles over Octavian’s stomach. Octavian arches his back away from Will, face scrunching up again.

“You’re killing the mood, greacus.”

“Aww, and I thought you liked me.” Will pouts.

“I wasn’t talking about you!” Octavian says too quickly.

“That’s okay. I was joking, kid, okay? Just joking.” He presses another butterfly kiss to Octavian’s neck. “It’s okay.”

Octavian relaxes into his touch, sighing softly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“This isn’t some stupid movie, Solace.”

“I didn’t know you knew my last name, kid.”

“Stop calling me kid.”

“Why?”

“Because you just had your tongue down my throat.”

Now it’s Will’s turn to go red.

“So I’m not allowed to have a nickname for you because I kissed you?”

“You’re not allowed to call me kid because you kissed me and you’re even less allowed to call me kid because I kissed you back.”

Will presses another kiss to Octavian’s cheek. “So you kissed me back, huh?”

“You knew this! You weren’t doing anything until I did.”

“Didn’t know you wanted me to be kissing you.”

“Of course I want you to kiss me.” Octavian’s blush gets darker.

“Do you want me to kiss you right now?”

“I want you to finish what you started.”

Will raises his eyebrows, running his hands over Octavian’s sides again, near the hem of his pants. Octavian shivers, fingers digging into Will’s shoulders and his breaths like kitten whiskers on Will’s neck.

“You want me to do more?” He whispers.

Octavian rolls his hips down, and Will notices two things at once.

“What do you think?” The roman whispers back, voice hoarse with want.

Will skims his knuckles teasingly over Octavian’s sides, smiling devilishly. “And what do you want me to do?”

Octavian arches towards him, shivering. “I want you to hurry up.” He huffs breathily.

“But what do you want me to hurry up and do?” Will decides to whisper from now on, his voice taking a husky turn and his fingers brushing Octavian’s hips again.

Octavian whines, trying to arch into him more to escape the fingers. Will’s hands are warm, but the tingling does the roman no favors for keeping his head focused.

Will kisses Octavian’s neck, dipping his fingers into Octavian’s pants and pushing them down further. He runs his nails down his back layering the kisses on as he goes.

Octavian lets out a breath of air and falls, his body molding against Will’s. “Can, can you fuck me?” He whispers softly, almost too quietly for Will to hear.

But Will does hear it, and he can’t help but bury his face in Octavian’s neck, shoulders shaking as he breaks into laughter.

Octavian hits his shoulder, face burning. “I don’t know why I even asked!” He huffs. “I should have known you’d just laugh at me.”

“Okay, but, Octavian.” Will lets out one last snort. “What else could I have done? You just blurted it out.”

“You’re the one who was asking me what I wanted in such a filthy tone.” Octavian rolls his hips down, silencing any new rounds of chuckles. “Your- your ‘problem’ developed first. I felt it on my leg when Lord Apollo was here earlier.”

“What?” Will pulls back. “No, I didn’t have a boner when my dad was here.”

“You might not have known you had one, but it’s not my nerves that are fried, it’s my vision.”

Will frowns, reaching up to brush Octavian’s bangs out of his eyes. “Yeah. About that. Can I try and fix that?”

Octavian pulls his face from Will’s hands. “No, I really don’t think you should. Lord Apollo was asking you not to.”

“Can’t you call him grandpa or dad or something?” Will raises an eyebrow. “Power of the name and all that dictates that now he’s listening.”

Octavian goes red. “What?”

“And, I don’t know about you, but I think we should give him a show.” Will smirks, pressing his lips to Octavian’s throat, just below his jaw.

Octavian gasps and rocks his hips down, his hands coming back up to Will’s shoulders to steady himself.

Will goes to the pulse point and sucks a hickey there, Octavian taking up a steady rhythm as he tries to get blissful friction. Will finds that when his teeth scrape over the sensitive skin, Octavian’s movements stutter before getting more desperate.

With a sinful ‘pop’, he pulls his lips from the mark, kissing Octavian’s brow over his half-mast eyes. He’s not desperate for release, but it would be a simple end for the mess he and his cousin had found themselves in.

So he slips a hand down to cup Octavian through his jeans, the room growing even more silent to their deaf ears.

“Please,” The roman groans, bucking his hips into Will’s hand. “I need-“

“You don’t need it,” Will presses a chaste kiss to Octavian’s eyelid when he squeezed it shut. “But you’re still gonna get it.”

The relieved whimper Will hears as he squeezes the other boy’s cock is about as rewarding as the slow grind of Octavian’s ass into his own dick afterwards.

Will slowly undoes Octavian’s jeans and shoves them down his hips, exposing most of the pale augur’s divine rod.

There are tufts of telltale dark brown hair around it, and Will can barely keep a straight face as his eyes flicker up and he whispers “Guess the carpet doesn’t match the drapes, eh?”

Octavian hits him.


End file.
